A Rush of Blood
by Lunatic Silver
Summary: There's something to all those vampire and addiction metaphors, but Jeremy thinks the vampire might be better. Jeremy/Anna, S1 ficlet. Rated for sexuality.


**Disclaimer: **I do not own _The Vampire Diaries_ nor its characters. They belong to L.J. Smith, Kevin Williamson, Julie Plec, The CW Network, and whoever else.

**Note/Warning:** Written between seasones one and two. Pointless Janna smut. Feedback appreciated. :)

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><p><strong>A Rush of Blood<strong>

Her fingers slowly trail down his chest; knuckles slightly bent so that the feather light scrape of her nails against his skin causes goosebumps to rise. She smiles; he can feel the curve of it against his shoulder before she kisses there (with a little slip of teeth).

His breathe catches in his throat. He feels light-headed - and he likes it. There's something intoxicating about the coolness of her body soothing his fever, the learned touches of her hands, and the girlish eagerness in her eyes. He would liken it to a drug, but the drugs never made him feel this good (not without making him feel equally bad later on).

Part of him wants to say that the one before made him feel this way, but it'd probably be a lie. The sad truth is he can't _remember_ if she did or not.

"What are you thinking about?" she asks; there's genuine curiosity in there. He also detects a hint of uncertainty; sometimes it boggles his mind that she can be so...normal (and deceptively young) around him.

"How I really hope Jenna doesn't get home early tonight." And it's not a total lie.

She giggles. She sounds exactly as she looks - like a teenage girl. Her smile is a little more confident now. "Maybe I should make it quick then?" she teases, and he groans, because if the giggling wasn't bad enough...

"Anna, you're gonna kill me if you don't stop playing around." And there's no vampire blood in his system (yet). "Don't rush it, just stop stalling."

"Okay, okay," she gives in. Her hands finish their journey and unzip the fly of his very uncomfortable pants. Her smile is pressed to his throat now, and he closes his eyes. She giggles again; she can hear his quickening heartbeat, he's certain.

Jeremy really doesn't know if it's her cool fingers wrapping around his painfully hard dick that makes him grip his sheet in anticipation, or the sharp prick of her fangs coming out. He just knows he's found his new drug cocktail, and it's a far more dangerous one (but without the crash).

She starts stroking the moment she pierces his skin. Her hips lightly grind into his in time with the rhythm her hand easily finds. Her fingers are soft, gently coaxing him while her mouth is brutal, hungrily taking from him. She slides her other hand under his head and cradles the back of his skull; those fingers alternate between gripping tightly and petting gingerly.

His fingers loosen, arms lifting to clutch at her instead of the sheet. He places his hands on her hips; he doesn't move her or guide her, he simply holds on for the ride. His body tightens, arching off the bed. He clenches his eyes shut for several moments, but then they open because another wave of sensation hits him when her nails graze the length of him. He cries out; it's not a groan or grunt or anything manly at all, just an honest, pleading sound of pleasure as need coils up in his groin.

The contrast of tender hand at his dick and wicked mouth at his neck makes his vision blur. Blood rushes down, she sucks it back up; it's a maddening war within his body, and he doesn't think he can survive much more of it, and he's beginning to see stars, and for one perfect moment he feels something indescribable.

It isn't pain, it isn't pleasure, it's something white and pure and intense. And then he's gripping her tight enough he'd have bruised Vicki, and he's almost crying because he feels so _clean_.

Anna holds him and sweetly coaxes him down from the high. She doesn't let him crash, she doesn't push him down. Her wicked mouth is placing loving kisses on his temple and the crown of his head; she whispers another language into his ear (because they both know she isn't brave enough to say 'I love you' in English) and offers him one bloody finger.

By the time her blood's done the trick, he's already half asleep. He thinks he mumbles something about returning the favor, and she giggles again.

"Don't worry, I got something out of it," she quietly says, and he's out like a light.


End file.
